


A Stitch in Time

by medieval_scribe



Category: 15th Century CE RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 01:33:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5648890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medieval_scribe/pseuds/medieval_scribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is just a bit of silliness, and not meant to be taken seriously at all. Basically, some of us have been discussing how a person from the 15th century would perceive our world if they were suddenly dropped into it. So this happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Stitch in Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChelleLeigh1917](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChelleLeigh1917/gifts), [MichisAccount](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MichisAccount/gifts).



**Scene 1**

FADE IN: 

EXT - AMBION HILL -- DAY

On a hillock in the heart of England, a small group of men on horseback wait. Banners and streamers whip through the air around them as the horses nicker and neigh impatiently. Below them, at the foot of the hill, a lone rider is charging the enemy, battle axe swinging wildly, a handful of knights hot on his heels. 

THOMAS STANLEY, a middle-aged man and the obvious leader of the group takes his reins in hand.

STANLEY

It’s time. Give the signal. Now. Before it’s too late. 

He raises a mailed fist and the others in the group follow suit. They ride down the hill and a vast army falls in behind them. The ground thunders under the weight of hundreds of hooves and the sound of armor and weaponry rents the air. Too late, the lone rider realizes he’s being attacked. He tries to fend off the first wave, but he’s quickly unhorsed and disarmed. A close up of his face reveals fear and anger in equal measure and his lips mouth a single word, TREASON, even as his voice dies out in the melee.

DISSOLVE TO: 

INT - HOSPITAL -- DAY

A physician, JOHN SMITH and a medical student, ARIANA NEWTON, hover over a patient who is just begin to come awake.

SMITH

The history please, Miss Newton. 

NEWTON

Yes, sir. Patient presented to casualty two days with severe injuries to the head, along with several other contusions and lacerations. Possibly the result of an automobile collision. 

SMITH

And? What else? 

NEWTON

Triage and emergency scans revealed a possible subdural hematoma. That was treated immediately in surgery. 

SMITH

Recovery?

NEWTON

Patient regained consciousness late last night. Vitals were normal. Slightly elevated white blood cell count, so maybe a latent infection? 

SMITH

Yes, probably. Oh, look, he’s awake now, although not very alert. 

NEWTON

Yes. I spoke to the nurse on duty. She said he was startled and a bit violent when he came to yesterday. Had to be restrained and sedated. 

SMITH takes out a pen light and examines the patient’s eyes. The patient looks alarmed but gives in to instinct and follows the beam with his eyes. SMITH and NEWTON continue to discuss the patient as if he isn’t actually there.

SMITH

Hmm. Slight lag in the left eye. Might be a result of the sedative, but we'll need to watch that, in case it indicates neurological trauma.

SMITH puts the light away and talks directly to the patient, but gets no response.

SMITH

Can you hear me? 

He repeats the question but the patient continues to stare blankly at him.

SMITH

Hearing loss with a head injury is not unusual. We’ll keep him under observation for a few days, just to make sure he’s alright. 

NEWTON (hesitating)

That’s just it, sir. I don’t think there’s any problem with his hearing. We gave him a quick audiology screen last night. All responses were normal. I don’t think he really understands when we speak. 

SMITH

Oh, you mean he doesn’t speak English? A foreigner?

NEWTON

Maybe. We don’t know for sure. He didn’t have any identification when he was brought in, and nobody’s been here to look in on him either. No family or friends. 

SMITH

I see. Well, we’ll have to contact the police then. 

\--

**Scene 2**

FADE IN: 

INT - HOSPITAL -- AFTERNOON

CONSTABLE HARRINGTON ambles into the hospital room, a friendly expression on his face. He smiles at the on duty nurse. 

HARRINGTON

So what have we here? 

NURSE 

Don’t know really. John Doe. Car accident. He’s awake now, so you’ll have to ask him yourself. 

The NURSE gives him a curt nod of the head and leaves the room. 

HARRINGTON gives the patient a quick once over and then addresses him directly.

HARRINGTON

So what’s your name then? 

He gets no response from the man in bed, who is awake but looks increasingly distressed, like a wild animal that suddenly realizes it’s trapped but can’t break free.

HARRINGTON

Name? Your name? 

Still nothing, eh? Well, let’s try again. 

HARRINGTON taps the badge on his chest with a finger.

HARRINGTON

See? This is my name. John. Harrington. What’s your name? 

At this, the patient’s eyes light up a little. He seems to understand. But when he tries to speak, only a dry, rasping sound comes out. At length, he gives up and shakes his head.

HARRINGTON

Ah, well. You’ve had a rough few days. Maybe talking isn’t for you. Let’s try something else. 

The constable pulls out a notepad and a biro. He scratches his own name onto a sheet and hands it to the patient. The man’s hands don’t quite work, so HARRINGTON shows him how to hold the biro. After several minutes of fumbling, the patient writes out his name in a shaky hand. HARRINGTON takes the notepad from him and whips it shut.

HARRINGTON

Right, that’s it. We got your name now. Only a matter of time before we get all the other details. No hurry though. You get some rest. I’ll be back tomorrow.

He nods politely at the patient and makes his way to the door when he hears the raspy voice again.

PATIENT 

Good sir, I pray you. Is this Heaven?

The patient speaks with a thick accent HARRINGTON cannot place. It takes him several moments to realize the words were spoken in English. He really only understands the last word.

HARRINGTON

Heaven? Good grief, no. This is Glenfield Hospital. In Leicester!

HARRINGTON chuckles to himself as he walks out of the room. He flips open the notebook and sees the patient’s name scrawled out in a shaky but compact and arcane hand. It reads “Richard Gloucestre.”

TBC


End file.
